— 𝓘𝐒𝐀𝐀𝐂.

𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐀𝐂 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐗. ❛ ex-forensic scientist. owns a small ranch. american. hopeless romantic. uncle. harsh exterior. soft interior. ❜ written by #єємѕ

hm, all the festivities are making him want to stay inside.

⌗

eems.⠀ come write with my soft daddy davi. he needs love 🫶🏼

𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐈 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐀. ❛ born in brazil. military veteran. bookstore owner. divorced. father of twins. ❜ written by #єємѕ

with all the rain and windy days, he supposes so.

𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐈 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐀. ❛ born in brazil. military veteran. woodshop owner. divorced. father of twins. ❜ written by #єємѕ

with most people at work already, not many bat an eye at the two. also because it’s not strange for them to be together. ike’s often at the moore residence and knows the family well. still, today’s reason is much different. “where d’you wanna go?”

after taking a quick toilet break and splashing his face with water, ike nods and puts his cowboy hat back on his hat. his hair’s a mess. “i’m ready. let’s go.” it’s a nice day out. not too hot and a slight breeze. perfect for a day after apparently drinking one’s head off._

thinking for a brief moment, ike gestures his head outside. “let’s get breakfast, my treat.” though he wonders what people will say if they see the two together, he just pushes the thought to the back of his mind and gathers his belongings.

watching her take the tablets, a brow raises in mock-offence at her comment about his age. with a small smile on his lips and a shake of his head, he slips off the bed again. this time grabbing his jeans and putting them on. feels safer, that way. “starvin’.”

moment, the man takes out his wallet, and then a few painkillers from out of it. offering it to ashley as he sits on the mattress again. “d’you think i have a death wish? no thanks… he won’t hear a single thing.”

noticing the sadness in her features, ike sighs to himself. scolding himself for letting this happen and putting her in such an uncomfortable position. looking at the ground, where his jeans were discarded, he slowly slips from underneath the sheets and picks them up. after a_

after… apparently not so much. looking over at the young woman, ike raised a brow. “you take any painkillers, yet? you look like you could use ‘em.”

yeah, maybe she was right… maybe nothing happened, but deep down, the man didn’t believe that. and he hated himself for it. how could he? his friend’s daughter… “was a bad idea to get your daddy’s liquor.” before that, he’d been sober enough to know what he was doing._

⌗ he’s . . . he’s fine. just— 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨.

@honeystillness hm, alright. he’ll be there.

@offorensicarts there will be ice cream and music. . .

what's @honeystillness doing this evening?

“just fine,” he said, nodding toward her. “how ‘bout you?”

with his age, a lot of folks called him ‘sir’, but he preferred his name, by anyone. he knew he was getting older, but ‘sir’ made him feel ancient. “good, good.”

right? he ain’t gonna let others fix his troubles.

the image that confession sends through ike’s mind isn’t one he was thinking of before. with a small groan leaving his lips and . . . bedsheets being grabbed and pulled over his legs. “fuck, ashley… what the hell did we do… this ain’t right.”